Bow Chigi Meow Meow
by Ellawritesficssometimes
Summary: All Romano wanted was for Spain to think that he's 'irresistibly' cute. Now add drunk England to the mix. The result?: a spell gone horribly wrong, a justifiably grumpy cat, and a still woefully oblivious Spaniard. Multi-Chapter/ Nekotalia. Neko! Romano.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N** : Is this what a writer's existential crisis is? Writing a story about cats and laughing at its title for a solid half hour?

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 **Bow Chigi Meow Meow:**

Argh! My head hurt like a motherfucking bitch. With my eyes still closed, I grit my teeth, feeling something sharp and not quite familiar. Hmmm. Maybe if I just went to sleep again all my problems would go away. Besides, this hangover wasn't going to nurse itself anytime soon.

I only remember small bits and pieces from last night. I remember travelling to New York for a world meeting. All of us countries then went to the Hamburger bastard's favourite night club. England got drunk and started casting off spells left and right. The CIA then stepped in and did memory swaps on every human who had witnessed the event.

Things only got crazier after that. We had the entire night club to ourselves, after all. I drank to numb the sting and cringe from watching those hormonal dumbasses break everything in sight, including each other's bones, which only took about five minutes to heal, naturally. Hungary had broken Prussia's nose a record of seventeen times, something that I had taken a profound amount of amusement in watching.

It was only when the alcohol kicked in that I became reckless myself. I laid my emotions flat out on the bar table, sobbing to anyone who would listen to me about how that Spanish bastard would never see me as anything other than his precious tomato love child. The rest of the night blurred together from there on in. The last thing that I remember was blacking out, that and a lot of darkness afterwards.

Well, right now I certainly wasn't in darkness. I was lying on the ground, which was burning hot for whatever reason. I shifted my position and nuzzled my chin against something soft and furry. I could feel the morning sun pour onto my skin.

Hmmm. I should probably get up now. Feliciano was sure to be worried sick about where I had ended up, ahem, not that I actually cared about that airhead or anything. He had his stupid potato to take comfort in anyways. As for me? I was just the jackass loner country with a shit ton of emotional baggage that no one bothered to speak to, let alone sympathize with.

Well, no one except for Spain. But then again, he, like many others, was completely oblivious to how I felt about certain things. For example, he was too dumb to realize that I was head over fucking heels for him. I mean seriously, I can't count how many times I've purposely bent over in front of him, hoping that he would take the hint and initiate the first move. I was too much of a coward to do that, so the onus of sparking the passion was all on his sorry 'fusoso' chuckling ass.

Eh…Spain did have a pretty fine ass, er, not that I would ever admit that out loud to him. I at least had some pride, you know. Not much, considering the fact that I'm most likely lying alone in some dingy alleyway in New York, but if you dig deep down under the layers of self-loathing and pestering insecurities, you would find a bundle of nerves that somewhat resembled confidence.

Balls, I've totally just put myself in a bad mood. It didn't look like I would be able to fall asleep again. I lifted my head off whatever furry pillow, or sweater, or Dio knows what else, and opened my eyes. Wait…this wasn't New York? Last time I checked, the States didn't have alder trees.

I turned my head, my foggy, muddled mind trying, but failing miserably to make sense of my surroundings. I was in Spain's backyard? But how? A garden bed full of tomato plants laid to my right. I looked up and found the familiar, worn down, and dare I say ugly, pink shingles of his house's roof top. The patio stones were still cracked from years of that bastard tripping and clumsily dropping things. Tch. Idiot.

Perhaps Spain had dragged my drunken ass here on a plane last night? Si, that was the only possible explanation for, well, this 'predicament.' But that still didn't explain why he had left me outside like I was his fucking pet or something.

I cocked my head to the side, which oddly felt much lighter than what I remembered it being. I stood up and nearly fell over from the surprise of how light my entire body was. I looked down, and that's when I realized how fucked up my situation truly was.

My feet were paws. Actual fucking paws! What the fuck!? I opened my mouth to scream, but the only sound that came out was some sort of strangled meow. I opened my mouth again only to close it out of embarrassment. I was a motherfucking cat and I had no idea why, damnit!

I scurried across Spain's patio, making a beeline for the back entrance of his house. I hopped up the wooden steps of his deck and stopped before a glass see-through door. A reddish-brown tabby cat with a dominant brown patch on its backside stared back. The fur on my dorsal area was raised, presumably in fear. Sticking out near its, ahem, _my_ left ear was that same annoying stand of hair that always managed to stick up in a rounded curl. Fuck, that cat _really_ _was_ me.

I meowed with defeat and plopped down to sit on my hind legs. Okay, maybe if I just think back to what happened last night I could figure out what had caused all of _this_. As you can see, I'm still having a difficult time acknowledging the fact that I'm a motherfucking cat!

I flicked my tail back and forth in both agitation and contemplation. The swinging motion must have triggered something in me because a fragment of a memory quickly came to mind. I saw the brief flicking of a pale wrist, followed by a bright green light, and then…blackness.

I sat there for a whole two minutes. It was all the time that I really needed before the events of last night hit my small and now feline body like a freight train loaded with the heavy weight of my own desperately pathetic stupidity.

I last remember talking to England before I blacked out. I remember him sobbing to me about how France never noticed him _(as to why he wanted to be noticed by that baguette butt-muncher, I'll never understand_ ), and us bonding over the fact that we were constantly snubbed by our 'crushes.' Next thing I know, England was drawing a casting circle with red wine on the grimy bar counter.

Apparently, the spell he casted was supposed to turn me into something so cute that Spain couldn't possibly resist me. The fault in that logic had now come to bite me right in my furry ass. And, well, here I am now, a disgruntled, hungover cat scratching at the back door of my old charge's house.

Let me just pause this story to say: FUCK MY LIFE.

* _Deep breath and resume*_

It wasn't long before a sleepy-looking Spain, adorned in a baggy green long-sleeved shirt and tomato print boxers, trudged over to see what was making such a racket in his backyard. The Spaniard's brown curls were messily sticking up in all directions. If I actually had the courage, let alone a hand to do so, I would have raked my fingers through it. Keh, that bastard always took care of himself so poorly. Heck, if I didn't scold him for not brushing his hair, he probably wouldn't have even bothered to tame it in the first place.

Green eyes widened with delighted surprise when they latched their sights onto a grumpy-looking, mewling cat. "Oh! How cute~!"

My ears perked with a new-found sensitivity. Jesus fucking Christ! He didn't have to shout so loud! I was right fucking in front of him!

Spain, the bastard, pulled open the glass sliding door. I sat there and meowed pathetically. There was no point screaming if I would just end up sounding like a weasel on crack. The last thing that I needed right now was for him to call animal control on me.

Spain bent down and held out a tanned hand for me to sniff. I considered biting it just to spite him, but in the end, I relented and gave it a quick whiff. The familiar scent of tomatoes, with a hint of garlic, clove, and dumbass wafted through my slitted nostrils.

I jolted when Spain ran a hand along my back, reaching out to gently grab my tail. I hissed, causing the bastard to chuckle and recede his hand. "You're a touchy little guy, aren't you?"

I blinked at the bastard real hard.

"Um, okay, I'm going to take that as a yes."

If a cat could smirk, I most certainly did.

"Are you hungry?" he asked.

I let out an indifferent meow, the human equivalent to a shrug. It was only a matter of time before the spell wore off, right? All I had to do now was get into that bastard's house and wait for the magic to unfold; literally. Whether I liked it or not, I would just have to play nice for the time being.

"You know," Spain smiled, running his hand behind my ear to scratch it. I inadvertently leaned into his touch. It felt good, _too_ good. Dio, this was way too fucking weird for me to wrap my tail around. "I don't think that I've ever seen a real life grumpy cat before. What's the frown for? Did you get a chica pregnant?"

I shook my head.

"So you're a bachelor kitty then, eh?"

I nodded my head.

"Wow! You're really smart for a cat!"

I rolled my eyes and growled under my breath when Spain stopped scratching my ear. The growling halted when he resumed scratching. I huffed and puffed and suppressed the urge to lick my hind leg.

 **PURRRRRRR.**

What the fuck was that?! Did my throat just vibrate?! Chigi!... Did I just purr?!

"You like that, huh?"

Hot _fucking_ damn, did his hands ever feel good!

 **PURRRRRR.**

Before I knew it, I was lying on my back, rendered completely helpless to the Spaniard's bastardly magic touch. Apparently, I was also a slut for a good belly rub.

"Fusoso! You're not so tough after all, huh? You remind me of someone very dear to me. He always frowns and pretends to be angry, but deep down he's actually really sweet and quite caring. I can definitely see you two getting along."

Spain's words fell on deaf ears.

I was too busy purring up a storm.

The purring stopped when Spain receded his hand once more. I whined low in my throat. What was even dignity anymore? Shit, this really was an all time low for me. I don't even want to think about how I'm going to explain this all to him when I change back. A horrifying thought then struck my mind: What if I'm unable to change back?! What if I'm stuck eating tuna and throwing up kitty pubic hairs for the rest of my shitty life?!

Spain tutted at me with a patronizing look on his dopey face. "Aw, don't be like that! How about I get you something to eat now?"

Spain's ginormous figure hovered over me, and without much say in the matter, I was subsequently picked up and slung over his shoulder.

I pouted inwardly.

How sad is it that this is the closest I've ever gotten to him?

The glass door slammed shut, and with that, my chances for escape were diminished entirely.

There was no going back now.

….

I was curled up on top of Spain's lap as he sat on the living room couch, absently flicking through different sports channels with a remote.

Feeding time was a bust. I had absolutely refused to eat those tiny brown pebbles of shit that he typically fed his own cat with, who by the way, was currently running amok in the streets. Obviously, Spain trusted his cat a lot to let him roam free like that.

Just when I was about to doze off, Spain's cellphone began to ring. "Hola~!" Spain chirped, answering the call on the second ring.

I perked my ears to listen in on the conversation.

"England?! No, no. I'm just surprised. That's all."

"Oh? How did you know that?"

A sat up on my hind legs and pawed Spain in the chest. "Meow."

Translation: _What the fuck is that pompous 'fish n shit' bastard saying?!_

The Spaniard patted my head and placed a finger over his lips. "Shhhhh."

"Si, I just found him on my back porch."

"Que? You want to have a kitty play date? Isn't that kind of random?"

I facepawmed. None of this conversation made any sense.

"Um, sure I guess. When will you get here?"

"Tomorrow?!"

"No, no. I'll be ready."

"Okay, see you then…I guess?"

"I won't forget, I promise! Ay! Just because I'm in debt and sometimes pretend to forget about it doesn't mean that I have memory problems!"

A bitter, gravelly voice could be heard on the other end of the phone.

"Mmmhmmm, yeah." Spain didn't sound very interested. "….Adios!"

Spain hung up the phone and sighed. "Egotistical puta," he darkly muttered under his breath.

I headbutted Spain's chest, something that I always used to do when I was tubby little chibi fuck.

"Heh, look at you, trying to cheer me up! I don't know why, but this guy I know, his name is England by the way, he's a country, but then again you're a cat so you probably won't even understand what I'm saying right now…eheheh…" Spain scratched his head, looking at a complete loss for words.

"Er, what was I saying again?"

Oh, for the love of fuck. I waited until Spain used what little brain cells he had to remember where he had so dumbly left off.

"Oh, that's right! Basically, my friend…" Spain paused to correct himself, which was far from necessary considering the fact that I was still a cat in his eyes. Tch, that dumbass.

"…Er… 'acquaintance' wants to see you for himself. I don't know how or why, but somehow he knows about you. He has what'd you'd call a sixth sense. It's best not to question him when he gets all worked up like this. Last time Prussia did that, he had several burnt scones shoved down his throat."

Spain and I both shuddered at the thought of England's scones. I didn't even like Prussia, and yet, I still felt sorry for that obnoxious albino dipshit upon hearing that.

"Heh! Did you just cringe? How adorable~!"

My eyes bulged out as Spain pulled me into a rib-crushing hug. I mean, I wanted to be close to him. But not fucking part of him, damnit!

 _Let. Go. You. Stupid. Jerk. Bastard. I. Can't. Fucking. Breathe._

I blacked out not long after that.

Spain cooed and continued to pet my now unconscious furry form, wrongly assuming that I had spontaneously decided to take a nap.

"Sleep tight, mi furry amigo!"

I'll repeat myself again: _THAT DUMBASS._

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To be Continued...


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Y'all can expect a triple update this week from me. Two weeks back, the website was being a twat, and I couldn't update, so now I'm making up for it!

Also, please do enlighten me with your clever puns :) I live for them (if the story's title wasn't already obvious enough). Hey, even better. PM me and we can have a pun war!

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I woke up without feeling the warmth of Spain's crotch. Shaking my head, I stood up on all fours and looked around the living room, not finding the bastard anywhere in my immediate sight. The sound of humming could be heard to my left. I spotted Spain scooping up something sticky and pink into a small glass bowl.

"Meow?" I hopped down from the couch and padded over into the kitchen.

Spain's eyes widened in delight when I absently rubbed my head and body against his pant leg. What?! I was a cat, so I had to at least act the part, right?! It's not like I enjoyed being close to him or anything. Not a fucking chance!

"Looks like someone finally decided to wake up~!" The Spaniard cooed, bending over to place the glass bowl before me. I wrinkled my nose in disgust when I realized that it was tuna. The acrid, sour scent of the meat wafted through my nostrils, and let me tell you that that shit stunk far worse than it did back when I was a human, er, country.

"Go on! Eat up! We men need lots of protein~!"

I growled lowly under my breath. Spain clearly didn't take the hint because he slid the glass bowl even closer towards me. But then again, that fucker was never one to read the atmosphere properly.

I turned my head to the side and sniffed indignantly. "Dios mio, are you ever stubborn," Spain sighed.

The Spaniard's eyes suddenly brightened. "Oh! I know! How about I feed it to you? Food always tastes better when you're being pampered."

It wasn't long before a spoonful of tuna was forcefully shoved into my face.

"Choo choo~! All aboard the yummy express~!"

"MREOW!" I hissed, raising a clawed paw to swipe the spoon out of Spain's hand. The metal utensil clattered against the marble tiles of the kitchen floor. Splatters of the questionably suspicious 'tuna' meat were flung in all corners of the room.

"Ay! What a mess!" Spain groaned, while I bolted out of the kitchen, heading straight for a nice hiding spot underneath the living room couch. Once there, I crouched down on all fours and attempted to calm myself down, but for whatever reason neither the shackles on my backside nor my claws would retract back into their respective places.

Spain cursed to himself frequently as he cleaned up my mess. Predictably, his foul mood didn't last all that long. Soon enough, his grinning, dopey face was peering at me through the narrow crack in the couch. Mirthful and determined green eyes were met with slitted, slightly glowing, and furious hazel ones.

"Easy there," Spain cooed, reaching out a slender tanned finger to bomp my nose with. "I come bearing no tuna, pinkie swear." Si, but his hand still smelt like it. I took a curious whiff out of his hand anyways.

"That's right. Come to boss Antonio~!"

Oh, that cocky fucker sure was asking for it. My temper got the best of me when he poked a _very_ sensitive whisker of mine, albeit accidentally. I opened my mouth and chomped down on his finger, causing him to yelp with surprise and recede his invading hand entirely.

"OW!" Spain howled, once again slipping into angry Spanish. I perked up my ears in smug silence as I listened to the bastard curse up a storm.

"Mierda! How am I supposed to show him off to England if all he does is hide?!"

"You hear that, mi furry amigo?! You've got me really, _really_ pissed right now!" Spain fumed.

I poked my head out from the couch and mewled innocently.

"AHA! YOU AREN'T GOING TO ESCAPE FROM ME THIS TIME!"

Spain made a desperate grab for me, but I was already long gone.

 **THUNK!**

You hear that? That was the sound of Spain's forehead colliding with the foot of the couch. Hey, if I was going to be a cat, I might as well make the most of it and have myself a good fucking time, am I right?

While Spain erratically talked to himself, dumbly plotting his revenge, I settled on all fours and decided to take a nap. England would be here soon, and I needed to conserve my energy.

…

I woke up to the smell of something inexplicably delicious. My eyelids slowly fluttered open, following my nose to spot a plate of freshly cut up tomatoes resting before me.

I crawled forward and slid out from my position underneath the couch. I looked to the side in both directions, purring out of relief when I realized that Spain was nowhere in sight. I then bowed my head to take a hesitant bite out of the deliciously ripe tomato. I licked my lips, and it wasn't long before the entire plate was ridden of food.

I faintly whimpered when my stomach growled, and loudly at that. Just when I was about to call it quits and resort to napping again, someone above me snickered.

I froze, knowing full well that I was a goner. Spain pounced on my paralyzed furry form, wrapping two steady hands around my torso as he lifted me up from the ground. I was then slung over the giggling Spaniard's shoulders.

"Roma was right! Tomatoes _do_ solve everything!" he guffawed.

I deadpanned. Way to misquote me, you bastard. I had said that tomatoes almost always solve problems when it comes to cooking, _not_ real life.

"Hmmm. Now that your shyness problem has been dealt with, I should probably come up with a name for you."

"Meow?"

Translation: please do enlighten me with your stupidity, bastard.

"Let's see here… you're always angry and you like tomatoes…"

The Spaniard used his free hand to snap his fingers together. "Oh! I know! I'll call you Romano!"

I hissed and growled up a storm. Did that bastard just name a cat after me?! Wait, what the fuck?! I had just been named after myself. Talk about weird and paradoxical…

But damn it! You don't see me naming my pets after him! Okay, so maybe I did name that _one_ Pretorian Mastiff after him. But that was only because he was always happy and wagged his tail like crazy. The naming had nothing to do with resembling the negative qualities of a person. Chigi! This whole situation totally sucked balls.

Also, where the fuck was that bastard taking me?!

"England should be here soon. Let's wait for him by the door, si?"

A dark expression crossed over my face.

Revenge was only a doorstep away.

…

 **DING DONG!**

I jolted awake from my nap. I was currently curled up on the foot of the upstairs staircase. The carpeting was soft, and Spain patting my head while I dozed on and off was more than enough to keep me asleep. I mean, it's not like I slept any less back when I was a nation. Siestas were a common occurrence in my useless, shit show of a life. Being a cat just gave me a more of an excuse to be lazy.

But now, it was game time. That scone fucker didn't know what he had coming to him-!

Spain stood up and moved to open the front door. "Hola England~!" he chirped, trying his best to be polite despite his obvious hatred for the furry-browed island nation.

England stepped into the front room, red-faced from the hot weather outside. The buffoon was dressed in a long, black trench coat and thick grey dress pants. He was far too ignorant to realize that not every country had the same shitty weather as he did. Well, it was either that or he was hiding something. Speaking of hiding something, the Englishman was also holding onto a pet carrier in his left hand.

Mother of Bastet. He had brought his pissy cat along with him too. Just fucking perfect!

"Yes, yes, hello to you too," England grumbled irately. "I say, who in God's name would enjoy scalding hot temperatures like this?"

The smile on Spain's face fell. " _I_ do."

The Spaniard turned away to mutter under his breath.

"He comes to my house for reasons inexplicable and then insults my country's weather?! I'll never understand why Francis wants to tap that ass…" Spain paused for a moment. "…Literally!" he finished.

England purposefully ignored the Spaniard's glowering look. His emerald green eyes swept over the room, pausing in their movements when they spotted my perched position on the foot of the staircase.

I hopped down and stalked/ twitched my way over to England, my tail hung high in the air.

England's eyes widened in sympathy. He bent down to whisper something to me in secret, but I wasn't about to listen to what he had to say. I leapt into the air, lunging straight for his face.

"MEOWWWWWWWWWWWW!"

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 **To be continued...xD**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Man, you guys are awesome! Them puns though xD Anyways, uploads will be much quicker now! I'm finally on break :D**

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"MEOWWWWWWWWWWWW!" I screeched and leapt into the air, aiming straight for England's face. Spain screamed out in alarm, but I was far too furious to heed that dumbass jerk bastard any attention.

It was just my luck that England had already been anticipating this reaction. The Brit simply scoffed and raised a hand to the air. A pulse of purple light exploded from his palm, directly hitting me in the stomach mid-jump. Time froze, and I soon found myself suspended in mid-air, unable to move.

I blinked and looked around the room despite not being able to turn my head. Spain was completely frozen with his mouth hanging open, his green eyes as wide as saucers. If I could, I would have smirked at the derpy expression on his face. Balls. That would have made for some great black mailing material.

England straightened his posture, clicking his tongue in annoyance. "I was hoping that you would be a bit more cooperative."

I glared daggers at England as he set down his pet carrier. "Growl if you understand what I'm saying," he commanded in his infamous holier-than-thou voice.

He didn't have to ask me twice. I growled low in my throat, imaging all the different ways that I could carve up his face with my claws.

England cleared his throat, his eyebrows unfurrowing with relief. "Good. Now, here's what's going to happen next. I'm going to undo this freezing spell, but only if you promise not to attack me."

I passively rolled my eyes and let him continue…not that I had much of a choice.

"I'll take that as a yes," England gave me a strained smile. "Alright, I'm undoing the spell now. It would be in your best interest to pretend to be fond of me."

I hissed through my teeth.

England grunted. "Oh come now! No need to be so pissy," he scolded. "I can't speak with you in private if Spain's going to worry about you clawing my eyes out."

My glare faltered. The deep-throating scone bastard had a point.

England nodded his head, taking my lack of growling as his response. "Best ready yourself then. The spell will wear off in 3…2…1…"

England sharply snapped his fingers.

Time resumed.

"Romano no!" Spain cried out as I hurdled straight for England's face. "Bad tsundere kitty!"

The island nation caught me with both arms and I snuggled up to his chest, feeling absolutely disgusted with myself. England let out a plastic laugh, using his hand to scratch the back of my ears.

 **PURRRRR.**

I clenched my jaw shut and suppressed the slutty urge to rub my head further into his hand.

England chuckled. "Ha! Looks like someone's happy to see me!"

I tensed a little and considered taking a good chunk out of England's hand. I changed my mind when I spotted the jealous expression on Spain's face.

The Spaniard's tanned cheeks flushed a bright pink. "Que?!" he exclaimed, taking a hesitant step forward. "I've never seen him act like this! He's always so grumpy!"

"Grumpy you say?" England smirked as he cradled my body in his arms.

Spain reached out to pat my head, but just to be spiteful, I hissed and snapped my teeth at him.

"Ay!" Spain yelped, quickly pulling back his hand.

England scratched my ears one last time before he set me down on all fours. I kept up the façade by rubbing my body along his pant leg. As you can see, dignity was merely a fad of the past.

"Well, aren't you going to let your guest in?" England tutted. "I don't have all day you know."

Spain pursed his lips. I knew him well enough to know that he was biting down on his temper. I could practically feel the anger radiating off his body. But, since I too was a dabbler in the fine art of shit-disturbing, I decided not to do anything. I sat down on my hind legs and flicked my tail back and forth in amusement. It was always entertaining for me to watch their old rivalry play out into modern times.

"Si, of course!" Spain trilled, despite not fooling anyone in the slightest. With my now improved hearing, I could hear the Spaniard's teeth grind against each other.

"How silly of me to be stunned when a nation that I never talk to shows up at my house for the reason of having a kitty play date! That's totally not bizarre at all! Ahahaha!"

Spain's laugh could very easily be interpreted as aggressive. Despite his cheery façade, his eyes were narrowed in distaste.

England, who couldn't be bothered to read the now tense atmosphere, took off his shoes, bent down to grab his pet carrier, and strode off into the living room. Spain cursed under his breath and followed after the intruding island nation.

"Do you ever clean up in here?" England snapped with a disapproving tone.

"Not really, no! Perhaps I could use that mop you call hair to clean up that shitty attitude of yours~!"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Hmm? Oh, don't mind me. I'm just really _glad_ that you're here~!"

"…Why do I get the feeling that you're being sarcastic?"

"Who? Me?! No! You're _crazy_!"

 _Literally_ , the Spaniard thought to himself, but didn't dare to say.

…

I was pacing back and forth in the living room. England was busy distracting Spain in the kitchen. Only when the tomato bastard was gone would we be able to have a chat. And by chat, I mean rage quit because I was going to meow the fuck out of that idiot's ears.

As I twitched about, I could feel the burn of England Cat's judgemental glare. The little bastard huffed, puffed, and complained about anything that his erratic pea brain could think of. I had only spent half an hour with him and I could already tell that England had spoiled this cat rotten.

The bell on England Cat's green collar jingled as he shook his head at me in disapproval. "I say, when was the last time you brushed your fur?"

"It's not proper to have your nails grow out that long!"

"When was the last time you gave yourself a bath?"

"You're one of those street urchins, aren't you? I just know it."

I looked over my shoulder and hissed at the obnoxiously pompous feline. "Piss off. Don't you have something better to do? Like, oh I don't know, lick your royal furry balls?"

England Cat huffed, clearly taking offense to my offpawed comment. "Well I never!"

England Cat still nonetheless proceeded to lift his hind leg and give himself a tongue bath.

I turned away in disgust and plopped down onto all fours.

Five minutes passed before a frantic England came scrambling into the living room.

England Cat automatically meowed in whining. "Arthur! Arthur! Get me away from this twat! He doesn't even bother to clean himself properly!"

England, who clearly didn't understand cat language, bent down to pet his mewling feline. "Now, now Liam. There's no need to get so upset. You'll have your afternoon caviar in no time, I assure you."

Liam growled and whined until England relented and placed him back into his cushioned pet carrier.

England then turned around to face me. "I suppose that you'd like an explanation for…" the nation cast a wayward glance at my swishing tail. "…this?" he finished.

"MEOOOOOW!" I padded/stomped over to England, baring my sharp canines at him.

England winced, crossing his legs as he sat himself down on the ground as well. "Oh, that's right. Before I forget."

The island nation pressed an index finger to my forehead. Warmth spread over my body, eventually settling at the back of my throat.

"You can speak now," England affirmed.

I opened my mouth in retort, but England was quick to clamp a hand over it. "I said you can speak, not scream at the top of your lungs."

"You better fix this, you bastard! I'm about two seconds away from clawing your eyes out!" I snarled, secretly relishing in the joy of being able to speak again. My voice was muffled, but I was still loud enough for England to hear me.

"I can't fix anything if you don't let me speak."

"England, if you expect me not to be angry about being turned into a cat, then you're out of your goddamned fucking mind! You're just lucky that I haven't torn out your throat at this point!" I seethed.

"Listen," England hissed. "We don't have much time before Spain gets back."

"Where the fuck did you send him off to?" I hissed back in retort.

England shrugged. "The market. I told him to pick up some ingredients for lunch."

I deadpanned. It was no wonder that China regularly lost his shit on England. The other nations weren't his servants. Believe it or not, he didn't own the world like he used to. Shocking, I know.

"So what now?" I asked.

England sighed. "We wait. Whenever I'm drunk, I always forget to put a protective seal around my spells. The one that I cast on you should wear off by the end of the day."

"End of the day meaning…?"

"I don't know exactly how long, if that's what you're asking. It varies depending on the person, really. That's why I'm here. I want to make sure that you don't experience any unintended side effects."

"Side effects?!" I spluttered.

"They're nothing to worry about," England tried to reassure me. "You may meow occasionally, or sprout fur in random places, but other than that, nothing too serious!"

"Do you even listen to yourself?!" I roared. "How the fuck am I going to explain spontaneously meowing during a World Conference?!"

England shrugged. "What does it matter? Nobody listens anyways."

I groaned and rolled on the ground, resignedly flopping onto my back. "Fuck my life."

I turned my head in England's direction. "Fuck you for doing this to me."

England raised his hands in surrender. "Oi! You were the one who came to me for help!"

"Well I certainly didn't ask you to turn me into a cat!" I fumed. "All I wanted was for Spain to love me. Is that so fucking hard to ask for?"

England sighed in defeat. "Both of our love lives are quite pathetic, aren't they?"

"Si," I conceded. "But at least we can share our misery together."

England nodded his head, grunting lowly in approval. I twitched my whiskers at England, the kitty equivalent of a smirk. My smug expression faltered when England's eyes widened in alarm. I followed his gaze to find Spain standing at the archway of the living room, his mouth agape.

"Um, call me crazy, but did that cat just speak?"

 **To be continued…**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N** : Two more chapters to go! Dem' awesome puns though :) Nothing feels better than when you guys make me laugh!

* * *

"Um, call me crazy, but did that cat just speak?"

England and I froze in place. Slowly, but surely, I rolled onto all fours, the hair on my back sticking up in apprehension. Spain's green eyes widened, tightening his arm around the paper grocery bag that he had clutched to his chest.

England coughed. "Have you finally gone insane, mate? Of course that cat didn't talk! Why, t-that would be p-preposterous! HAHAHAHA!"

I rolled my eyes at England's horrible acting skills. "Dumbass," I muttered under my breath on instinct.

"Fucking hell! Meow! I said Meow!" I futilely corrected myself. England let out a defeated groan.

Well, looks like the cat was out of the bag.

Spain gasped with shock, setting his groceries down on a nearby coffee table. "I was right! He did speak!" The Spaniard placed a hand on his chin in contemplation. I was amazed by how calm he was acting. But then again, we were dealing with England here. Literally anything could happen with that nutjob.

"But why does he sound so familiar?" Spain pondered to himself.

I turned my head to glare at the scone fucker. "England!" I growled, twitching my tail in irritation. A silent message was communicated between the both of us.

England stood up. "Right! I'm already on it."

England walked over to Spain, holding up his right hand to the air. A pulse of orange light jutted out of his palm, hitting Spain smack middle in the chest.

The Spaniard staggered backwards, his green eyes dazed and emotionless. He looked even more dopey than usual. I'm guessing that England must have hypnotized him.

"Alright. Let's keep this nice and simple, shall we?" England purred in a tone that contrasted immensely with his typical gruff and pretentious voice.

A small, confused smile crept onto Spain's face. "Si, simple."

"Now repeat after me."

"Now repeat after me."

"No, you idiot! Not now!"

"No, you idiot! Not now!"

I have never wanted to bury myself in a hole more than I did right now. The cringe was just too strong for me to handle.

England bit his lip to stifle his anger. "Cats don't speak."

"Cats don't speak," Spain repeated.

"I did not just hear a cat speak right now."

"I did not just hear a cat speak right now."

"In fact, I don't remember anything that happened during the past five minutes."

"In fact, I don't remember anything that happened during the past five minutes."

"Good boy."

"Good boy~!" Spain beamed.

England sighed, reaching over to press a hand against the tomato bastard's forehead. Spain sighed in relaxation, closing his eyes.

"Now, I want you to think of something that makes you really happy. Something that will replace your memory of this event for the meantime."

Spain giggled, his lips spreading into the perverted smile that I knew all too well. "Heh, there are a lot of things that make me happy."

"Just pick one and be done with it, you insufferable git!" England growled out.

"Um…" Spain grinned, pursing his lips as he imagined the unthinkable behind closed eyes. "I would really like to see Roma in a bikini, eheh."

"WHAT THE HELL?!" I roared. I could already feel the blood rushing to my face, but thankfully my fur was there to obscure most of my embarrassment.

"Well that was quite unexpected," England stammered awkwardly.

It took the Brit a moment to regain his composure. At this point, I was considering hiding under the couch for the rest of my shitty-kitty existence.

"Okay…I want you to picture 'Roma' in a bikini. Let the image fill your mind with happy thoughts."

"Don't fucking encourage him!" I wailed in between burying my snout deeper and deeper into the carpet.

England simply ignored me and carried on with his mind fuck.

"Are you happy now?"

"Si, I'm _very_ happy."

"Tell me, what do you see?"

"I see Roma's skin glowing under the afternoon sun. I want to take him."

"Take him where?"

Spain's grin only got wider. "To my bed, eheh."

"OKAY! THAT'S ENOUGH!" I raged, standing up and walking over to England so that I could swipe a retaliatory claw against his pant leg.

England sighed, the sadistic smirk on his face quickly being replaced with a look of concentration. "Oh fine. Way to kill all the fun, Romano," he muttered, sounding far more disappointed than he should have.

England removed his hand from Spain's forehead. "Open your eyes, Antonio," he ordered.

Spain opened his eyes. Blank green orbs looked around the room, albeit not registering anything.

"On the count of five, you're going to turn around and forget that this ever happened."

Spain pouted. "But I don't want to forget about Roma in a bikini!" he whined.

England paused to smugly look at me. "Are you sure that you want me to do this? It seems that Spain's a lot more interested in you than you think."

"Just fucking do it already!" I snapped, barring my teeth at him.

"Whatever. It's your choice."

"5…4…3…2..1…"

Spain's forehead glowed white beneath the skin, causing his body to jolt with a start. As if an invisible force was controlling his actions, the Spaniard clumsily trudged forward into the kitchen, mumbling nonsensically to himself.

England rubbed his hands together in satisfaction. "Now that was some mighty fine spell work!" he exclaimed, looking thoroughly pleased with himself.

"That still doesn't make up for the fact that you turned me into a cat. Cocky bitch," I mused with a thick amount of sarcasm.

"I'm fixing that right now, aren't I?"

"Yeah, and look how well that's turning out."

England crossed his arms. "A simple thank you would have sufficed!"

"You haven't fixed anything yet. I'm not going to thank you for being a moron," I huffed, tilting my snout high up into the air as I trotted out of the living room and into the kitchen. It's not like I was worried about Spain or anything. No, of course not!

"And where do you think you're going?" England fumed, stomping after me.

"The front foyer," I lied.

"Why?"

"I'm going to piss all over your shoes."

"You will do no such thing!"

"Hey England?"

"What?!"

The shit-disturbing side of me tingled in anticipation. "Do me a favor and go choke on France's hairy balls."

I quickly scurried out of the room, avoiding the foot that a now red-faced England intended to stomp on my tail with.

…

As usual, I was in a pissy mood. After Spain had snapped out of his spell-induced trance, he had made a pan of Paella for lunch. England picked and played around with his bowl of food, and when Spain wasn't looking, he had slipped the dish under the table for me to eat it. This, of course, didn't mean that the furry-browed nation wasn't still mad at me from our fight just a little over an hour ago.

In retaliation to my insults, England had taken away my ability to speak. In other words, I was back to meowing again. What I regretted most was the fact that I had to endure listening to Liam's entitled, privileged rants about the poor quality of his afternoon caviar.

Lunch was awkward, as England and Spain hardly exchanged any words. I could tell just by the sound of Spain's breathing that he was irritated. The Spaniard kept his anger in check by flaring his nostrils and snorting incessantly. He really was a bull in that aspect. Granted, the bastard's irritation over the matter was warranted.

England didn't even bother to cover up his distaste for Spanish cuisine. On top of not eating what Spain had cooked for him, the Briton had held a disapproving expression on his face for the entire meal. I was just surprised that Spain hadn't strangled him to death at this point. Leave it to that bastard to smile through everything. Tch! What an idiot.

Anyways, we were now all gathered in Spain's living room, England's obnoxious feline bastard included. Unfortunately, the twat had come here under the premise of hosting a kitty play date. It would be odd and arouse even more suspicion on Spain's part if he didn't follow through with that façade, despite how unbelievably stupid of an excuse it was.

England was sitting on the ground, crossed legged with his back leaned up against the foot of the couch. His emerald eyes gleamed with pride as he watched Liam pounce on a ball of yarn.

Spain wasn't having much luck with getting me to play with him. I lay dead as brick on top of his lap, whining whenever he dared to stop scratching my ear. That bastard was never one to give up, however.

Spain dangled a stick with a pair of bells attached to the end of it in front of my snout. "Come on, Romano," he cooed, scratching my belly with his free hand. "Play with me? You know you want to~!"

What I wanted was to claw his eyes out. England's smug glares didn't exactly help with my foul temperament.

I turned my head to the side and huffed into Spain's crotch, purring against my will. His hands were fucking magical, all right.

I knit my brows in irritation when Spain poked one of my whiskers. "Don't you do anything other than sleep?" he whined. No bastard, that's one thing that hasn't ever changed about me. Cat or nation in human form: I'll always be a lazy, good for nothing bum.

I had had enough of Spain's guilt trips. I stood up on all fours, making sure to dig my claws into the bastard's thigh as I hopped off his lap and trotted over to the other side of the room.

Liam looked up from his crouched position on the ground. The furry asshat was pretending to stalk the ball of yarn as if it were his prey. "Oi, grimy city cat!" he called out. "I could really use some help."

I paused mid-pace to glare at Liam. "With what?" I asked, for once choosing to be the better feline and ignore Liam's catty insult.

"Why, isn't it obvious?" the feline huffed indignantly. "I must conquer this atrocious ball of fabric!"

"I think that I'll pass," I sighed, plopping down onto all fours.

"For shame!" Liam scolded. "To think that my own kind would abandon me during this time of war!"

"You're fighting against a stationary object. The only war you're fighting is the one with your massive ego."

"Such insolence!" Liam spluttered.

Spain and England watched in confusion as Liam and I continued to angrily meow back and forth.

"Can it, tuna breath," I growled. "I'm trying to take a nap."

"My word! What a sorry excuse of a cat you are!"

"Newsflash!" I snapped. "I'm not actually a cat!"

"W-what in Bastet's name are you going on about now?!" Liam questioned with a stutter, his pea brain evidently confused.

"Nothing. Forget what I said and go back to your pointless life of ball-licking and food-mooching."

I yawned and stretched my paws, preparing to take a nap. Anything else that Liam had to say to me was dutifully ignored.

The irony of my previous words came back to haunt me as I stretched my back, my spine cracking uncomfortably. I didn't think much of it until my spine cracked again, causing me far more pain this time around.

I panted and turned on my side, only to meow out in pain when I felt my canines recede back into my gums. My neck was the next thing to crack, causing me to twitch and convulse on the ground. My eyes widened in alarm. It appeared as if England's spell was finally beginning to wear off.

Spain gasped when he spotted my shuddering form on the ground. "Dios mio! Romano!" he cried out. "Don't worry, Boss Antonio is coming to help!"

"Uh…you alright there mate?" Liam questioned, but at this point I couldn't understand his haughty kitty language anymore.

"Relax," England sighed. "He's probably just choking up a fur ball."

I turned my head to look directly at England. The Briton mouthed his instructions. " _Get out of here while you can. I'll distract him."_

Didn't have to tell me twice. Despite the pain and cracking of my joints, I leapt onto all fours and bolted straight out of the living room. Spain cried after me in worry, his shouts becoming muffled as I entered the closest room to my right, hiding under the bed.

I was becoming a nation again.

 **To be continued...**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** One more chapter to go! Quick side note, try not to be that butthole reader who unfollows a story after it's completed xD Like bruh, way to ruin an author's celebration. Sincerely, a potentially very butthurt Canadian girl. Besides, if I do make a sequel for this, I'll be attaching an extra chapter to this story as my way of alerting you guys!

Anyways, I just want to reiterate who amazing you've all been. Thanks for being so supportive :D. It truly warms my heart.

* * *

I scurried into Spain's bedroom and hid under the bed. It wasn't long before I had fallen down onto my side, my body twitching and my tongue lolling out of the side of my mouth. The frantic shouts coming from the living room eventually faded out, for the sound of blood roaring in my ears had obscured my sense of hearing.

My heart rate slowed, and I felt this immense urge to stretch my limbs. I jolted a little when a warm breeze rustled through my fur. The sound of friendly chatter and garbled conversation filled my ears. I knew on instinct that I was connecting to my land, and most importantly, my people once more. I could feel their liveliness and joy as if it were that of my own.

Despite the pain, I rejoiced in becoming whole. I hadn't realized how disconnected I was from the Earth until I felt its vitality and energy course through my veins again. My sluggishness from being a cat drifted away as a new burning sensation tingled at the tips of my dew claws.

The burning sensation spread to my torso, growing hotter and hotter until it became too much for me to bear. I panted and meowed out in pain when my tail folded in on itself and receded back into my spine. My snout was the next to go, shrinking only to stretch out again, forming the curvature of my slender, sloped nose. I blinked one last time, feeling my eyes un-dilate as my sight became significantly poorer.

The urge to stretch grew tenfold, and without even thinking about it, I arched my back, stretching out all four of my furry limbs. I watched in amazement as my paws grew into hands, followed by the thickening of flesh on my arms.

A prickling sensation then tingled all over my body, the course brown hairs of my fur coat being sucked back into their respective follicles. The stretching continued, and it wasn't long before my legs and feet were formed as well.

With one last magical poof, the stray curl near my hairline sprung back into place. I sighed out of relief, only to widen my eyes in horror when I realized my downright woeful predicament. What if Spain caught me hiding under his bed…butt naked?

Oh, fuck to the no! That sure as hell wasn't going to happen! Knowing that pervert, he wouldn't let me live this down. I mean, don't get me wrong, I've always wanted to be with Spain. But, I didn't want him to think that I was easy either.

I scrambled out from under the bed, swearing all the while.

"Chigi!" I cursed. "Not today, tomato fucker. Not today!"

I slammed the bedroom door shut, pressing my back against the wooden frame and locking it for good measure.

"Shit! What the fuck am I going to wear?!"

…

 **10 Minutes Earlier** …

England watched with proud eyes as his darling cat Liam pranced about, pouncing occasionally on his precious ball of yarn. The Brit was making sure to avoid contact with the Spaniard next to him as much as possible. The two nations had never really cared for each other, after all.

The Spaniard's shoulders slumped with dejection as kitty Romano hissed and leapt off his lap, trotting over to stand before Liam. A few meows were exchanged before the shackles on kitty Romano's back stood up in anger. Hisses could be heard before kitty Romano decided that he had had enough of Liam's shit, leaving the latter to his duties of yarn-conquering.

The Italian feline twitched over to the opposite side of the room, plopping down onto all fours, presumably to take yet another nap. England furrowed his brows at this, but chose not to say anything. He was more concerned about what Liam had said to Romano. Liam was a smart little bugger, and England was slightly jealous of Romano for being able to converse with him.

 **CRACK!**

England's eyes snapped towards kitty Romano's direction. The feline was flopped over on his side, his hazel eyes wide with confusion. Recognition dawned on the island nation. The spell he had cast on Romano two nights prior was finally beginning to wear off.

Spain took one look at kitty Romano's panting form, and like the overdramatic twat that he was, he freaked the fuck out. "Dios mio! Romano!" he cried out. "Don't worry, Boss Antonio is coming to help!"

England rolled his eyes. "Relax," he sighed. "He's probably just choking up a furball."

Kitty Romano rolled onto his other side, making direct, slightly pleading eye contact with England.

England mouthed his instructions to the twitching feline. " _Get out of here while you can. I'll distract him."_

Kitty Romano didn't need to be told twice. Leaping onto all fours, the feline scurried out of the living room, tail hidden between his hind legs. The patter-patter of tiny paws thumping against the wooden floorboards could be heard.

"Furball or not, I need to see if he's okay!"

Spain got up immediately, only to be stopped when England grabbed onto his forearm.

The Brit's deep emerald eyes glistened and gleamed, just like that of a cat. "You're not going anywhere," he purred. It was a pity that glamour had never been one of his strong suits.

Spain shook his head, his wild brown curls falling into his face. England could tell that hypnotizing the sunny nation wasn't going to work. The Spaniard was a like a bull of energy, and was therefore way out of the Brit's realm of control.

Blast! If only Vlad was here. The Romanian had always been the best at performing glamour magic. In fact, most of the vampire lore existing today can be traced back to him. But enough about the past. England had a thrashing Spaniard to distract!

"Move, Arthur!" Spain growled.

"Sorry, mate," England tutted, smiling patronizingly at the leering Spaniard. "That's not going to happen."

The Brit used his free hand to jab an index finger against the Spaniard's chest. He supposed that an immobilizing spell would have to do.

A ball of gold light spread across Spain's chest and all throughout his body, causing his skin to glow briefly. When the light faded, Spain was frozen in place, his face stuck in an angry expression. The way that the Spaniard's brows were furrowed made him look like an ape. Bloody degenerate, that's what he was.

To do his fellow nation justice, England raised another finger to flick Spain in the nose. Admittedly, he had always wanted to do that. "Cheeky bastard," England smirked, turning on his heels as he left the living room and its frozen derpy owner behind.

The Brit whistled a merry tune as his cat loyally trotted beside him. It didn't take the island nation long to figure out where Romano was. The screaming and swearing was already a pretty good indication of that.

…

 **BANG! BANG! BANG!**

"Romano! Open up! It's me, England!"

I nearly jumped two feet in the air when England knocked on Spain's bedroom door.

I cursed to myself and scrambled about the room, looking for something to wear. "Just give me a minute!" I answered back.

I nearly tripped over a sock that Spain had lying around on his floor. The idiot hardly ever cleaned up after himself. I picked up a random shirt from the pile of dirty clothes resting on the foot of the bed. Normally, I would have never been caught dead wearing something so atrociously basic, but fashion was the least of my worries right now.

I pulled over the wrinkled black night shirt over my shoulders, sighing out of relief when it fell well past my knees.

"Romano!" England called out again.

"I said wait a fucking minute, damn it!" I growled back.

I walked over to the door and opened it by a slight crack. England glared at me, his thick eyebrows furrowed in its residual scowl. I looked down to spot his cat giving me the exact same expression.

"Where's Spain?" I snapped.

"In the living room."

My face reddened with anger.

"Relax, I put another freezing spell on him," England rolled his eyes. "Now can you let me in? I have to make sure that you're not experiencing any side effects."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just hurry the fuck up," I muttered, swinging the door open.

England and his cat trotted into the bedroom. Liam sniffed my foot, turning his head away to meow in disdain. The little bastard must have recognized my scent from earlier. He's just lucky that I didn't punt his sorry ass out the window. The fact that I had a cat of my own refrained me from doing so, however. Si, Marcello was a good kitty. Hopefully Feliciano had been feeding him in my absence.

I closed the door, turning around to have my face cupped between England's pale hands.

"W-what the hell are you doing?" I spluttered as England tilted my head to the side.

"Checking to see if your eyes have undilated," England answered, dropping his hands back to his sides and taking a step back. "So far, so good. Does anything feel off to you?"

"Not that I can think of, no. Oi!" I cried out, shuffling out of the way as Liam lifted his hind leg, no debt intending to pee on me.

"What the bloody hell was that for?! Oh look, now you got him all scared!" England roared, bending over to pet his melodramatic cat, who was now pretending to tremble with fear.

"Shhhh," England cooed, scooping up his mewling cat into his arms. "It's alright Liam. He's always angry. It's not your fault."

"Not his fault?!" I snapped. "He was the one who just tried to piss on me!"

Liam purred, smugly perking up his ears.

"Excuse me? I'll have you know that Liam is potty trained!"

"Che, I'm so done with this feline bullshit," I muttered under my breath.

I rolled my eyes, sidestepped around England, and left the bedroom.

"Wait! Don't go in there just yet!" England called after me, only to be ignored. Serves him right.

I ignored England and walked into the living room, only to falter in place when I spotted Spain standing mid-stride near the couch. His mouth was open, and drool was beginning to trickle out of the corners of his mouth.

I couldn't stop myself from crying with laughter. "BAHAHAHA!" I chortled, walking closer towards him. "Shit! Where's a camera when I need one?"

England walked into the living room, still cradling Liam in his arms. "I wouldn't get too close to him if I were you. I've set the spell so that he'll unfreeze the moment someone touches him."

I leapt back from Spain, jolting as if I had just been shot. "You couldn't have warned me about that earlier?!"

"You threw a diva tantrum and stomped off before I could tell you, remember?"

England set down Jasper on the ground. "Tsk!" he tutted. "What a shame. It would have been amusing to see Spain react to you wearing his shirt."

My face burned with the heat of another furious blush. "Will he remember any of this?" I stammered.

England shook his head. "He won't remember anything from the last day and a half."

I sighed with relief. "What about me? Will I be okay?"

"From the looks of it, yes. You haven't grown fur in odd places have you?"

"No…"

"Then you should be fine."

A dark look crossed over my face. England was quick to pick up on it. "What are looking at me like that for?"

I bent down to pick up Liam, foiling his second attempt to pee on my leg. The cat howled and hissed up a storm, but I could have cared less.

"Both of you, out!" I demanded, stomping over to the front door. The English twats had long over stayed their welcome.

"Be careful with him!" England snapped. "He has delicate tendons!"

"Really?" I smirked. "Too fucking bad."

I tossed a screeching Liam into his pet carrier and snapped it shut. "Here!" I handed England the pet carrier, which was more like me shoving it into his chest.

"Now leave before I go full Mafioso on your pasty ass!"

England hurriedly shrugged on his trench coat, flinching when I jabbed him in the ribs for not putting on his shoes fast enough. "Let's go!" I bellowed. "I don't have all day!"

"Alright! Alright! I'm going! Jesus Christ!" England swore.

I opened the front door and shoved England forward, causing him to stumble down the front steps.

"Safe travels," I mused.

"Oi! Where's my thanks?!"

I slammed the door in his face.

"There's your bloody thanks!" I mocked in a horrible England accent.

England had more to say, but I simply locked the front door and strutted away.

I had a lot of things to do, and dealing with England's insufferable, entitled temper certainly wasn't one of them.

I took a deep breath to calm myself. I had every reason to be nervous. Why might you ask? Because today was the day where I would finally confess my love for Spain.

* * *

 **To be continued...!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N** : You guys are making me feel so old and I'm only 19 :O. **Tytydown:** the story's title is based off the 'sexy' Bow Chicka Wow Wow song xD Although, I do know what you're referring to. Back yonder I used to watch Phineas and Ferb too.

Anyways yeah, the title will make perfect sense by the end of this chapter. Thanks for your support! It was really fun to write this! I hope to see you guys at some of my other stories :)

 **~This chapter is rated M for 'Spontaneous Meowing'~**

* * *

Okay, this was it. I was finally going to confess my love for Spain. I had spent the last two hours cleaning and cooking. Shocking, I know. But tonight was special, so I didn't mind all that much. It had taken a lot of restraint on my part not to snap a photo of Spain's frozen form. The only thing that prevented me from doing so was the possibility of me getting too close and unfreezing him prematurely. I wanted everything to be perfect before I set him free from his derp-like trance.

During this time, I had also cleaned myself up. I had a guest bedroom at Spain's house, which thankfully had a wardrobe filled with clothes of my size. I was now wearing a burgundy blouse, which was tucked under a crisp pair of grey dress pants. I had also given my hair a good comb through, parting it to the side so that Spain would have a full view of my hazel eyes. While grooming my face, I had found that the stubble on my lower jawline grew at an unprecedentedly fast rate. This must have been one of the side effects that England had mentioned earlier. Oh well, I couldn't be bothered to fret over a minor setback like that.

I strode into the living room, swallowing heavily. I balled my hands into tight fists. There was no backing out now. I had planned this night out to a tee. I had worked my ass off to get where I am now, damn it! Centuries of hidden feelings rose from my chest, giving me the final push that I needed to confront my one true love in life.

I cleared my throat, raising my arm to place a delicate hand onto Spain's shoulder. A pulse of light lit up across the sunny nation's chest, spreading all over his body until it finally settled at the tips of my own fingers. Spain blinked in disorientation, his brows furrowing.

"Oi!" I scolded in my typical gruff voice. "Spain! You there? Why the fuck are you drooling?!"

Spain shook his head, absently wiping off the drool accumulating at the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. When his blank green eyes settled onto me, his entire face lit up with a shit-eating grin, causing me to flush slightly in embarrassment.

"Roma!" he squealed. "Mi tomatito! What are you doing here?!"

It wasn't long before he had pulled me into a rib-crushing hug. "Ack! Stupid bastard!" I wheezed. "You…invited me over for dinner…remember?"

Spain nuzzled his face into my shoulder. Keh, still clingy as ever I see. "Did I?" he asked.

I pounded a retaliatory fist against Spain's shoulder blade. "Let go of me, you moron! I can't breathe! And yes, you did! Are you that old that you forget about things now?"

Spain chuckled, pulling away from the hug. He still kept his hands placed on my shoulders, however.

"Lo siento!" he apologized, beaming down at my now disgruntled expression. "I've just felt so weird lately!" Spain paused to look past my shoulders, spotting the dining room table which was now filled with all of his favourite food dishes.

"Wow! I must have been really busy today!" he gushed.

I shook my head in disbelief. "So busy that you forgot all about it," I remarked with a thick amount of sarcasm.

"Aw~! Is my little Lovi upset?" Spain simpered, and patronizingly so.

I tsked under my breath. "Fuck no!" I huffed. "Besides, there's something that I've been meaning to tell you for a while now…" I trailed off, removing Spain's hands from my shoulders, much to his evident disappointment.

Spain's disappointment switched to confusion when I grabbed his right hand, raising it to my lips. "Bello," I murmured.

"R-Roma?" Spain stammered, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down nervously. "What are you d-doing?"

I brought Spain's hand to my chest, stepping closer towards him as I used my other hand to tuck a few strands of hair behind his ear. "You're blushing," I mused, grabbing the collar of Spain's shirt to bring him down to eye level.

"Eheh?" Spain chuckled nervously.

"Idiota, how dense can you be?! Haven't you realized it by now?" I growled, harshly butting my forehead against his own. I looked Spain dead in the eye. "Ti amo."

Spain's eyes widened in shock. "Uh…"

I harshly pulled away from Spain, already feeling tears stinging at my eyes.

Time pushed on at an agonizingly slow pace. What was only a minute felt like hours. "Say something, damn it!"

Spain gulped. "I…didn't think that you would ever say that to me…"

 **SLAP!**

Spain's head jolted to the right. I panted, still holding up my hand in the air. "Are you fucking kidding me right now?! I just confessed my love for you, and that's all you have to say?!"

Spain clutched at his sore cheek, while I turned around to leave. "Chigi! This was such a waste of time!"

"No! It's not like that!" Spain grabbed onto my wrist, pulling me closer. He was much stronger than me. I fought to free myself from his grip, but in the end, I found my face smushed up against his chest.

Spain laughed, genuinely sounding happy as he raked his fingers through my hair. "Oh, Roma! I'm so happy right now! I feel the same way too!"

I froze. "Y-you do?"

"Of course! I was just too afraid to tell you!"

I straightened my posture, tilting my chin to look up at Spain. "Are you brain dead or something?"

"Que?" Spain gave me a puzzled look.

"EVERYONE BUT YOUR DUMBASS SELF KNEW ABOUT MY FEELINGS FOR YOU! WHY THE FUCK DO YOU THINK I DROP MY PAPERS SO OFTEN AT WORLD CONFERENCES?!"

"Oh…I just thought that you were practicing yoga…"

"Yoga?!" I spluttered, facepalming so hard that I saw several Gilbirds dance before my eyes. "My God, you're hopeless!"

"So…why did you drop your papers so often then?"

"Because I wanted to show off my ass, you oblivious fuck!"

"Oh…" Spain's eyes darkened considerably. "I see…"

"W-Why are you looking at me like that?"

Spain didn't respond.

"Stop it! You're creeping me out!"

My face only got redder from here.

"Hmmm…" Spain mused. "Shall I have a quick appetizer before eating dinner?"

"What the hell are you talking about? I…ahem…YOU didn't make any appetizers!"

"Really? Because I'm looking at a muy tasty one right now."

"Oh…" I flushed, finally realizing what Spain was getting at. "Well, why don't you try it then?"

"Si, I will."

It was then that Spain crushed his lips against mine. I brought a hand to the back of his head and knotted my fingers through his thick muss of curls. Spain ran his tongue along my lower lip, and I compliantly opened up to him, our tongues flicking and dancing with each other in a heated, passionate tempo. The kiss was more perfect than I could have ever imagined.

I moaned as Spain grazed his teeth along my collar bone, arching my neck as far back as possible. A large tanned hand softly stroked my waist, causing my leg to lift on instinct. Spain just about tackled me onto the couch. I gracelessly fell onto my back, looking up through lidded eyes at the towering Spaniard hovering over me.

"You taste _so_ good," Spain hummed, sucking at my upper lip.

I bucked my waist forward, causing him to groan in appreciation. "I've waited so long for this," I whispered, stroking the back of Spain's neck.

"Ha!" Spain barked. "That makes two of us."

Spain's hand drifted under my shirt, prompting me to slap his wrist. "Hey!" I scolded, smirking all the while. "No dessert until you finish your dinner!"

I didn't cook all that food for nothing, you know.

"But Romaaaaaaa!" Spain whined like the needy bastard that he was.

"Oh hush! We've waited centuries for this. Surely we can wait another hour or so, si?"

Spain sighed, crawling off me. "Okay," he moped, reminding me of a puppy who had just been kicked in the stomach. I could practically hear him whimpering with each breath that he took.

I sat up, accepting Spain's hand to lift me off the couch. "It won't be long now," I playfully winked at him. "Have some patience…old man!"

I giggled and skipped a few steps ahead of Spain.

 **CLAP!**

I stumbled forward when Spain smacked my butt. He then wrapped his arms around my waist, chuckling as he let his chin rest on my shoulder. "Save that feistiness for later," he purred in my ear. "Being old is never a bad thing. It just means that I have more experience than you."

I shivered. "S-Shut up! And stop speaking to me like that!"

"Like what?" Spain innocently hummed, still refusing to let go of me.

"Don't you play stupid with me! Y-you know exactly what I'm talking about!"

"Heh."

"What are you laughing about now?!"

"You're just so cute. I can't help it~!

"I'm not cute!"

"Lo siento. You're right. You're actually very sexy."

"Damn straight! I mean, no! No, I'm not! Shit! Yes I am!"

"Awwww~! Is my little Roma nervous about sleeping with me?"

I shrugged myself out of Spain's grip and stomped over to the dining room table. "Let's just eat already!" I growled.

Spain shrugged. "Fine by me. As long as I get my dessert later~!"

It didn't take a genius to know what type of 'dessert' that pervert was referring to.

…

 _One hour later…_

The mattress of Spain's bed creaked and ricketed under the weight of two 'conoodling' nations.

"Oh~! Fuck! Spain! Si! Si! Right there! Ohhhhhhhhhhhh~!"

"Uhhhhhhhhh! Roma! You like that, huh? Tsk! You dirty little boy!"

"Fuck me, Papi! Harder! Si! Si! Just like that!"

"Ay~!"

"Ohhhhhh shit! I'm going to…I'm going to…hnnnn!"

"Let us release together, mi amor!"

"Ah! So close!"

"On the count of three, Roma!"

"Uno…Dos…Tres…"

Romano arched his back, his mouth opening to scream out in pure bliss.

"MEOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW~!"

Spain shuddered, calming down from his high as he flopped onto his back next to his lover, whose face, strangely enough, was now beet red in complexion.

"Did you just meow?" the Spaniard furrowed his brows, giggling at the sheer absurdity of his question.

Romano's face contorted with rage, angrily shaking a fist at the ceiling for reasons inexplicable.

"ENGLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAND!"

…

 _Meanwhile, halfway across the world…_

England sipped on a warm mug of tea, absently flipping through his favourite Jane Austen novel.

"Hmmm," he pondered. "I wonder how Romano's doing right now?"

England waved off this worrying thought with a shrug. "Oh well. It's not my problem anyways."

* * *

 **And so this ridiculous story finally comes to an end.**

 **Thanks for reading~!**


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